Not a machine
by Not Just a Nerd
Summary: Machines, gadgets, bots, numbers, codes…. There was always a heart within her. A soft, innocent, tender heart that dared to chase that butterfly... ZIGGY x DOC K. Two-shot. Sort of drabblish. Completed.
1. Dr K's POV

A short, female figure darts around hurriedly; short hair flicks with the hurried motion; two long, slender, petite fingers pound incessantly on the keyboard; two eyes unblinking focused on the computer screen all the time…. A heart beating against her ribcage. Another heart beating along with hers.

* * *

The cold glass of water touches her lips. The screen blinks in red, bold letters. Loud, blaring sirens go off, the violin hidden in the corner of the room trembling with the high energy vibrations.

Seven brave hearts dash towards the exit, only one returning a few minutes later.

"Hey doc?"

She raises an annoyed eyebrow, before swiftly looking back at the computer screen, her mind ready to come up with a spiteful insult for whatever stupid words are about to leave his mouth.

Silence follows instead, and when she looks up, she faces only a warm, gentle, reassuring smile.

The fingers pause for a second in alarm, and a soul realizes that she is still living, that she is still not immune to pain and exhaustion and stress.

The thing is, he always dreamt of being a ranger, even though he never wanted to be one, and when he finally became one, he wanted to run away. Yet, he's the only one with that smile that makes her stomach churn, in a way that she hates to like. He's the only one who tries to sneak out of every fight- he is the only who is confident that they will win every time.

"_Good versus evil… Us versus them… enemy I can see with my own eyes…" _– she doesn't really understand human conviction so much. It's complicated, it cannot be expressed in simple sines, tangents and cosines, and no one taught her how to deal with it.

A smile? Her mind does know how to react to that.

Fingers pounding at the screen, instructions echoing through the intercoms, his panicked squeal makes her eyes roll, a disturbing feeling at the pit of her stomach that she realizes she likes.

* * *

He thinks that placing the white, chef's hat in her office and continuously ranting to her about his 'amazing culinary skills' is going to make her change her mind about learning to cook, and that too, from him- the master of damaging things and getting into trouble.

He is so wrong this time.

Her place is not in the kitchen.

Her place is in the lab, with machines and untested gadgets- cold, harsh metal and their hollow clicking sound her only companions.

A plate of bacon is placed on her table at 1 at midnight, and she wonders how a person so concave can have such deep thoughts.

She doesn't understand. Human feelings are too complicated. And that thing swelling in her heart, which makes her thank him for his consideration, scares her.

* * *

A person who grew up with machines, away from human touch, away from sunlight, the fresh air of monsoon, the first kiss of rain.

A person who grew up in an orphanage, amidst people who weren't his own, but who cared more than blood would.

Electrons attract protons. She understands that.

She doesn't understand the electric shock she feels when their hands brush. It's too complicated, and she'd rather deal with easy things, like deciphering the macro-molecular codes of an abandoned Venjix bot.

* * *

Copper coils, that red scary light, a dreadful mechanical voice, people running around everywhere, a giant bot hammering a tall building, a scared female screaming out the names of Gem and Gemma….

She whimpers in her sleep. She's a human being living with machines and dreams concerning machines.

There are patches of green strewn in her dreams, shark appearing out of nowhere, in a random uncontrolled tail spin, and her lips curl upwards in a weary smile.

* * *

"_Even the most flawed human is better than the most perfect machine." _

He talks with his mouth full, placing his feet on the table, socks still smelling like last month, and she doesn't want to analyze who she was talking about. She has tons and tons of toxic chemicals to analyze, after all.

* * *

She has never said goodbyes, never been taught how to do it, but she thinks she does pretty good.

His hands wrap around her arms, grins lighting up their faces, and she wonders when the thin line of hatred blurred.

She can spot a tiny change of a single character in her program. How could she miss something so big?

Fingers interlace, and she thinks she knows, gets it now.

Machines, gadgets, bots, numbers, codes…. There was always a heart within her. A soft, innocent, tender heart that dared to chase that butterfly...

* * *

(A/N: this is my first ZigK, so please tell me if you like this and if you will allow me to enter your fandom. Should I write more one-shots/drabbles?)


	2. Ziggy's POV

**A/N: this one is from Ziggy's POV. Please tell me what you think of it!**

A short female figure darts around hurriedly; two long, slender, petite fingers pound incessantly on the keyboard; two eyes unblinking focused on the computer screen all the time…. A heart beating against her ribcage. Another heart beating along with hers.

* * *

The electronic voice continues to echo in the room, mocking him, instructing him to make the floor spotless and shining. The green line on the giant screen makes crests and troughs with the vibrations of her voice, often coming to a dead thin line when the voice stops speaking.

Ziggy doesn't understand how a person can manage to speak like this- he does not understand technology. He does not understand why Dr. K never reveals himself to them. All he understands are these: One, that freaky line on the computer screen is supervising him. Two, that creepy person does not really like him. Three, he likes Dr. K.

* * *

The first time she reveals herself to them, he is stunned to say the least. (If he wasn't Ziggy- the guy who would manage to speak without much difficulty even when two guns are pointed at him- he would definitely have been speechless.)

Dr. K is actually a female!

He doesn't understand, doesn't understand her cold attitude towards him, her harsh remarks directed specially at him. But he understands these: One, he still likes her. Two, he will make her like him.

* * *

The city gates close, and his heart sinks, knowing that was the last time he saw the girl he loved. Even after three years, this memory haunts him in most of his dreams.

"Ranger Operator Series Green", she speaks in fake sweetness, as soon as he enters the garage. "Apart from your regular indolence and inadequate physical activity, waking up behind schedule on a work day would also be added to your list of inappropriate behaviors. Would you like to say anything in your defense?"

He shakes his head, munching on an apple, wondering why she is even giving him a chance to speak. He doesn't understand her strange behavior sometimes. But he understands two things: one, she doesn't actually hate him. Two, the gates of his heart are opening again.

* * *

They are trapped in a cave, on her birthday, with no way out if someone else doesn't rescue, and that too before the oxygen in the air is exhausted, and to top it all- it is entirely his fault. He should have been thinking of ways to get out of the cave, like a real ranger would, or he should have been freaking out, in concord with his character. Instead, he lifted his hands to form shadow puppets, hell bent to entertain her, to make her smile.

When that lovely smile curves on her weary face, when his eyelids close along with hers, he understands three things: one, she is **not a machine**- she is as much flesh and blood as him. Two, his heart has been captured by this cold hearted woman, as cliché as that may sound. Three, if they ever get out, if they manage to live, he will definitely do something about it.

* * *

"So… any plans about what you want to do with your life from now on?" he asks her, while she picks up the disorganized tools scattered all over the room, and tries to sort them.

"No." she simply states (she has never spoken too much, not about herself at all. The only time her lips did magic was when she was insulting him) but there is no venom in her voice.

"Come on, Doc!" he persists. "You've gotta tell me! We are friends now, remember? Come on!" He moves behind her, touches some sort of gadget; she slaps his hand away, glares at him.

"I do not have an unfaltering decision hitherto, Ranger Green." She repeats.

He scowls. "You can't call me that anymore. I am not a Ranger now, remember?"

Her shoulders lift in an indifferent shrug. "Would you prefer if I referred to you by one of Newton's laws of motion, instead?"

He stares at her in disbelief. He doesn't understand why she never speaks his name. It's not a curse word or something! "Ziggy! My name is Ziggy!" he says like an excited and stubborn little child.

And he is not the only one who's stubborn. She still doesn't budge a bit.

* * *

She announces that they will be running a school together, and he still wonders when the thin line of hatred blurred. He is not exactly an expert in taking note of things, but he **had been** taking note of her, so how could he miss something so big?

When did she change? When did she stop hating him?

Fingers interlace, and he thinks he knows, gets it now.

She never actually hated him. Machines, gadgets, bots, numbers, codes…. There was always a heart within her. A soft, innocent, tender heart that dared to chase that butterfly...a soft, innocent, tender heart that tried to deny its love for him, but finally gave in…

(**Finished...)**


End file.
